Evie's Night at Fazbear's Fright
by MJTR
Summary: The daughter of the slayer. The man in the suit. Thirty years later. Only one is leaving Fazbear's Fright alive.
1. Chapter 1

[[Author's note, as has become tradition:

…

…

…

AGH! OH FUCK NO! NO! NOT AGAIN! NO- NOOOOOO!]]

Evie's Night at Fazbear's Fight

Evelyn Matis Gheri had gotten along pretty well in life for the mixed-breed daughter of two demon slayers. From a young age her father had taken her out twice a month to learn how to wield the tools of the trade- oversized swords and magic-infused handguns. She killed her first demon at five and her father had collected the sand it had collapsed into into a little jar for good luck. She had remained on good terms all her life with her parents, her younger brother and twin little sisters. Her father had noted when she had gone to visit him just a week before, "I can't believe I'm not going to die with a running kill-count. Took me over fifty years, but I'd say we really cleaned up nicely.

The dream of dying on the battlefield had all but disappeared in its entirety by his later years. After slaying the dreaded Plutuson just a few years before Evie's birth, the influx of demons into the human world dropped to an all-time low. A few still remained and would crop up now and again, but their mass disappearance (caused mostly by civil wars struggling to fill the power vacuum) meant that the world didn't have a lot of use for demon hunters anymore.

Unfortunately, it also left Evie and several members of her family out of work and forced to seek fruitful employment elsewhere.

Evie herself had never _meant_ to become a demon hunter, she just ended up taking lots of jobs as they came up. But with hunting now at such a low, she was forced to utilize the counseling degree she earned back in college. Ordinarily she didn't mind, but was rubbing at her temples that particular day, trying to reason with a particularly excitable recovering drug addict.

"I just see this spooky stuff, you know man?" He asked. "I wanna channel all that energy into something really cool, but I just don't know how. Then I get depressed and I start hitting the stuff again, you get me?"

"Yes," Evie sighed. "For the umpteenth time I get you."

"And I was just sittin' around the other day, talking to this buddy of mine- he's a real cool cat. Doesn't really say much, he's a super listener though! Apparently took some trauma to his frontal lobe or something way back in the day-"

"Mmmhmm," Evie said, her eyes down at her notes and beating herself at tic-tac-toe yet again. She looked up at her client, perhaps the most descript surfer dude she'd ever met in her life. She didn't mean to be so dismissive and usually was better, but this guy was amongst the most out-there clients she'd met in her field.

"And I'm like, 'You know what'd kick ass? There was this place a bunch of kids got killed back in the day, and boy, it'd make a killer haunted house!'"

"Yeah, you don't see how that would be a little insensitive?" Evie asked. "I mean, it's not _as_ bad as that idea you had to teach 'Grave desecration' at Camp Crystal Lake but-"

"Could you refill my water glass ladybro?" He interrupted.

"If you'll stop calling me that," Evie said with another sigh. She took the glass from his hand and made her way out to the hallway that led to her office, getting a breath of fresh air away from her client as she looked to the clock. Almost 6 PM, then she'd be able to go home in peace. Her husband Rodan would surely handle cooking that night. As long as the kids weren't acting rowdy, there would be peace.

She returned with two refilled glasses, handing one to her client and sitting back down to take notes across from him. "So like, you don't think my haunted house idea would be super bodacious?"

Evie stuck out her tongue in disapproval. "Ugh, something must be wrong with the water filtration in this place. That's awful… No, I really don't think it's a good idea to try and open… To try and open… What the hell…?"

As she continued trying to look at her client she could feel the room beginning to spin. The red coloring of her wall began to appear to melt and bleed into the ceiling and floor. There was a distinct beating sound somewhere in the back of her mind, like Iron Butterfly and Pink Floyd were partaking in a Battle of the Bands next door.

"Ooooooo crrrrraaaaaaap laaaadddddyyybbbbbrrrrro. Iiiiii thhhhhiiiiinnnnkkk thhhhhhaaaaattt miiiiggggghhhhhttttttaaa beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen myyyyyyyy dddrrrrrriiiiinnnnnnk."

Evie opened and stared at her hands as they began to move and gyrate faster than she could comprehend. "What the hell was in that glass?"

"Thhhhaaaaaat'ddddd bbbbbeeeee ttthhhheeee 'spppppooooookkkky stttttuuffffffffffffffffff' Iiiiiiii meeeeennnnnttttttttiiiiiooooonnnnned," her client said. "Iiiiittttt'sssss toooottttttttaaaaalllllyyy coooooooooo' tttttthhhhhoooouuuuugggggghh, iiiiiitttttt'sssss nnnnnoooooootttttttt illlllllllllleeeeeeegggggaaaaaaaalll. Goooovvvvvveeeeeerrrrrnnnnnmmmeeennnnt ddddooooeeeesssssnnn'tttt kkkknnnnooooowww tttttthhhhhiiiissss ssssttuuuuufffffffffff eeeeeexxxxxiiiiissssstttttssss yeeeeetttttt."

About at this point Evie began to gleefully spin around in her office chair with her tongue extended. "Wooo! Woooo! Wooo!"

"Woah, ladybro you look like you're having a good time over there! Are you feeling better about stuff?"

"This is the greatest carousel ride I've been on! Faster, faster!"

This was completely out of line with her normal professionalism, but the established "Spooky stuff" would, shortly after its discovery by the American Food and Drug Administration three years, be labeled amongst the most obscenely powerful hallucinogens on the planet. The entire reason the stuff never took off was even the trace amounts since dissolved into Evie's client's glass were enough to temporarily wreck the demonic hybrid's mental state. How in God's name her client had survived taking as much as he did was wholly a mystery.

"Hey… Ladybro, if you're feeling so cool… I know you don't like the idea of my funhouse… But would you like, consider checking it out with me?"

"Lead the way leprechaun man!" Evie exclaimed. "Lead me right to the pot of gold! I will eat all of the delicious haleem! I want a sweater made out of that lambskin rug on the fourth floor!"

…

At around nine PM, after mindlessly skipping and marveling at the complete craphole her client had been bragging about, though was most excited to resuming spinning around in the wheelie chair in the security office, Evie fell asleep. Her client, being an idiot, left her alone for the night.

At about midnight, drool running halfway down her face, Evie was awoken by the ringing of an ancient phone. She opened her eyes to a terrible haze and shook her head, struggling to make sense of her surrounding as she picked up the receiver.

"Hell…. Hello? Aw holy hell, what'd I drink last night?"

"Um… I looked back in the script a little bit. Apparently you drank the dissolved residue of the scariest hallucinogen on the planet."

"The script…? Oh for the love of—who is this?"

"My name is Meredith, I was asked to call this number, favor to my boyfriend… What does he have me doing now? Who are you?"

"My name is Evie... Is your boyfriend, 'The Author' or something?"

"I think 'creative writer' is about as generous as I can get on that front," she said. "I got this email like a week or two ago about calling this number. Then he disappeared… I probably should have filed a missing person report by now, but I gotta be honest, I'm really enjoying all the quiet."

"Yeah, well I can sympathize with that," Evie sighed, reaching forward and coming upon a piece of paper just in front of her, promoting "Fazbear's Fright! The Horror Attraction!" "Oh son of a… Have I been dragged into a damn sequel to those stupid stories my dad was in years ago?"

"Aw shit, is that what we're doing? That thing Michael won't shut the hell up about? How did I get dragged into this… Look, he had some vague instructions I'm supposed to give you… You see… qPad? No. I'm not saying that out loud. You see a tablet in front of you?"

"Yeah," Evie said, reaching next to where she had picked up the promotional poster, tapping around on the various icons on the screen. "Oh goody, we're doing this stupid camera thing again."

"Yeah, but there was something else… Is there a secondary tablet to your left? Or maybe it's your right. I'm sorry, his notes are pretty terribly written."

"Got it," Evie said, grabbing the second pad and reviewing the information on the cameras and audio and ventilation. "What is all this? My dad didn't deal with anything nearly this overcomplicated."

"At least you didn't have to try and explain it," Meredith replied. "Geeze… Okay, don't let any of those things short out… You've still got some of that crap in your body, if you're not breathing right it's gonna start messing with your vision."

"Well, can't have any of that," Evie said, leaning back in the wheelie chair. "I don't need this… I didn't go to shrink school to do crap like this."

"At least you could get _in_. Student loans are kicking my ass. I'd give anything to be practicing psychology."

"Well hey, we've got school and we're both sick of your boyfriend's crap." Evie said with a little smile.

"Yeah… Again, probably should have told someone he disappeared, but I'm getting some of the best sleep of my life. Listen, Evie, I don't have unlimited minutes on my phone, can I call you back, make sure everything's okay in an hour or so?"

"Sounds pretty good. If your boyfriend shows up, let him know I've got some strong words picked out for him and… Holy crap! What is that thing?"

Evie's eyes remained trapped on a single horrible eye, peeking around the corner and staring right at the camera. "Oh yeah, I think Michael left a note about that too… 'By the way, I kinda retconned the ending of _Animatronic Boogaloo_.' I don't actually know what that means, but I've got a feeling you do."

"Perfect," Evie said, exacerbated. "Just perf- Wait a second, is that an emergency exit?! Holy crap, thank you for talking to me, but it looks like I'm out!"

"Wait wait wait, the note says-"

Meredith wasn't able to talk down Evie before she made a mad dash for the exit door. Upon opening the door, she was met with a wall of nothing but bricks. With a baffled stare Evie made a few punches and kicks at the brick wall before bitterly returning to the office.

"Yeah… Note said the exit door was bricked shut. And there was still too much of that stuff running through your body, keeping your 'powers' in check. I'm gonna trust you know what that means."

"Yeah. Thanks for talking to me. Hope I hear from you soon."

"Good luck, I'll call you back later. Oh yeah, Michael's note said you gotta make it til six. Talk to you around two."

"Thanks," Evie said, looking back at the camera to find the terrible creature with the eye had disappeared around the corner. "I might just need it."


	2. Chapter 2

Evie spent the next twenty minutes trying to figure the odds and ends of the cameras stationed throughout the long forsaken pizzeria. To her surprise there only appeared to be a single of the robotic monstrosities wandering throughout the halls, though the way it dodged into the shadows before she could get a good look at it made her wary.

"Come on… Dad beat five of them, me _and_ dad beat, what, eleven or twelve or something?" She said. "I can handle just one."

Under normal circumstances she'd have just waited for the creature in the shadows like her father had, but her mind kept retreating to the thought of the drugs still messing with her system. That and this story's writer is a lazy, stick to the formula jackass who thinks acknowledging weak storytelling is a reason to forgive it. Which is isn't.

To keep the sickly looking and sickly colored creature at bay, Evie utilized the small button on the tablet marked "Audio". With each click on there came the echo of a distinctly familiar child's laugh, which, for some reason, seemed to attract the animatronic away from the office.

"Well, that helps," she said. "Guess they were programmed to go towards kids to entertain or something.

Her eyes turned occasionally to the powerful gusts of the fan and the telephone, anxiously awaiting another call from the opposite side of the fourth wall. Minutes continued to slip by before Evie lifted the tablet again only to double take at some bulbous headed figure obscuring her view. Confused by what was going on, she slowly lowered the tablet, only to find the half-rotten face of the animatronic child inches away from her face, his eyes like bright orbs of milk and some substance of a similar color spilling from his mouth and bald head. Evie could only back away a few inches before he screeched, "I SAW IT! OH GOD, I SAW IT ALL!"

"What the hell?!" Evie demanded, kicking off from her rolling chair to make some distance.

"IN MY WORST IMAGINATION I COULD NEVER HAVE PICTURED IT! THEY DIDN'T EVEN HAVE GENITALS, HOW COULD THEY HAVE BANGED!? THE HORROR! THE HORROR!"

It took Evie a few beats to realize what he was referring to, but the white substance dripping from the phantasmic Balloon Boy's mouth and head brought back memories. That was right, he had been killed after her father had literally brain bleached him. "What are you trying to get out of me?"

"IF I CAN'T GET BACK AT THAT SON OF A BITCH, THAN I CAN AT LEAST HAND HIS DAUGHTER OVER TO SPRINGTRAP! HE'LL REALLY LET YOU HAVE IT!"

"Springtrap? Is that what we're calling that thing slowly inching his way here? And why do all of you guys have to scream? Seriously."

"HE'S GONNA GETCHA BITCH! I'M SCREWING WITH THE VENTILATION SYSTEM EVEN AS WE SPEAK!"

Tired of his endless screaming, Evie reached out and attempted to wring Balloon Boy's neck, only to find, much to her confusion and chagrin, her hands were phasing through. He tried again before standing up and attempting to kick him in his stupid, smiling face, but even then her leg just slipped right through. As she continued attempting to strike him, Balloon Boy simply laughed in jest. "YOU AND YOUR DADDY CAN'T DO ANYTHING TO HURT ME ANYMORE!"

"Why are you even bothering me in the first place?" Evie asked. "I thought my dad made you all change your ways. I saw you make friends with Sparky."

"SPARKY ISN'T REAL!"

Realizing that Balloon Boy's presence was somehow interfering with the ventilation system, as he had described, Evie was fighting harder and harder to keep her breaths steady. Even if he was intangible, he couldn't be invincible. There had to be a way to take him out, had to be a way to—

It came to her all in a moment. She didn't like it, of course she didn't like it. But she was a psychologist on top of a demon slayer. Balloon Boy had a deep seeded fear, the one that led him to seek revenge. And she could exploit it.

"So," Evie asked, slowly grabbing ahold of her red leather jacket and peeling it down her shoulders. "Watching two foxes doing the nasty really messed you up, huh kid?"

"YES! NO ONE SHOULD EVER HAVE TO WITNESS—"

Before he could resume Evie slipped off her jacket and set it over the back of the chair, slowly unbuttoning her blouse as she shook her hair back and forth. "Well sorry to disappoint you sugar. But there's only one fox in the house tonight."

The realization only slowly began to wash over Balloon Boy when Evie discarded her blouse completely, flashing him a look at the bright white bra that stood out against her dark skin. At this, Balloon Boy began to shriek again. "STOP THAT!"

Running a casual hand over the desk next to her, Evie knocked one of the Chica figurines onto the floor. With a seductive, "Woops", she bent down to pick it up, giving Balloon Boy a long look right up her skirt.

"CUT IT OUT! THIS IS SEXUAL EXPLOITATION OF A CHILD!"

"When did you die again?" Evie asked, very matter-of-factly as she stepped closer to Balloon Boy, who was slowly beginning to shake with terror. "Pretty sure that was a long time ago. I think we're both approving adults here."

"NO! NO I DO NOT APPROVE AT ALL!"

Evie leaned in close to Balloon Boy, sliding her left pointer finger in her mouth, sucking it a few times and, at last, delivering a kiss on his cheek (as best she could, as he was still intangible). Folding her arms, she took a few steps backward to admire her handiwork.

After a few seconds in complete shock, Balloon Boy began shake and jerk violently. He was unable to process the thoughts of both horror and pleasure in his mind, his head certainly wasn't the only thing that proceeded to bust.

With that obvious joke out of the way, Balloon Boy faded out from existence. But as he did, Evie was suddenly struck with a force, seemingly blasted from his milk white eyes. A vision of some sight, many years ago.

…

She was looking through the eyes of some unseen figure, and judging by the noises she could hear, he was talking. Standing in front of her was what at first appeared to be the horrible Golden Freddy she had seen as a child, only to realize there was a man within the suit's head, who was doing his best to lift a cigarette into his mouth and take an inhale.

"So yeah, by the end of the episode Hal's snapped out of it and gone back to his family," the man whose eyes Evie saw through said, "But man, I was sure it was going to get worse. I don't have a wife or kids or anything, but I don't know if I could have turned down Scarla."

"Well, time will tell," the nasally voiced person in the golden suit said. "Otherworld's a hell of a show. It's going to be on forever."

"Oh yes it is," the unseen one said.

Somewhere in the background, the two could hear a child crying. The one in the golden suit stuck out his neck and squinted his eyes. "Why does that kid keep coming here every day?"

"Eh, you know, his dad works here or something. It's cheaper than daycare. Who knows?"

As the child continued to cry the man in the Golden Freddy suit dropped and stomped out his cigarette before pinching the bridge of his nose. "God, shut up. I'm going to give him something to cry about-"

"Don't bother. He hates the costumes. If he sees you he'll just scream louder."

With a grumble the man in the Golden Freddy costume leaned against the wall and crossed his arms before finally grabbing and pulling the head off. Beneath the costume was revealed a head of silvery hair, styled upward and spikey.

"I hate the cries of children… Can you keep a secret?" He asked his coworker.

"Sure thing Vergil," the point of view character laughed. "Long as you'll keep mine."

"Good… Someday I am going to awaken my latent demonic powers, unleash a titanic bridge between this world and the world of the demons and rain hell down upon all who oppose me!"

The unseen one let out a laugh. "I love it! And while we're talking about morbid shit, I used a costume to lure a couple kids into that off-camera room the other day and butchered them like lambs to a slaughter!"

At this, Vergil too let out a laugh. "You're a sick, sick man."

"Yeah, you too!" And with that the unseen one slapped him on the back once or twice. Instantly Vergil froze in place as a horrible cutting sound could be heard within the costume he was wearing. Still he stood for a few seconds before turning to his coworker.

"Did you just set off the springs?"

"It was an accident! But seriously, you're part demon right? That'll heal."

"I don't care if I am part demon! These suits are a huge pain in the ass! I think it's finally time to get a lawsuit going. I want these damn things banned!"

…

All in a moment Evie snapped back to current time. Shaking off the experience rather quickly, Evie flipped the button and repair the ventilation as she pulled her clothes back on. "That's one down. Who knows how many are left to go," she said to herself. Eyeing the security cameras, she noted the still enigmatic, single animatronic wandering through the attraction had made his way a little closer. She had to shudder a little when she heard Balloon Boy's "Hi" again, wondering if she'd have to deal with him again. For the moment she set the camera aside, just in time for the phone to ring again.

"Hello?" She said.

"Hey again, Evie," Meredith said. "Sorry I took a while, made a midnight Kum and Go run. They're like, the only place that makes white chocolate Reese's cups. Did I miss anything?"

"Uh, yes!" Evie said, already exacerbated. "Balloon Boy just tried to get me killed."

"… Balloon Boy? That doesn't sound all that threatening." Meredith said.

"You really don't have any idea what any of this is do you?" Evie asked. "How on earth did you somehow avoid hearing or knowing anything about this?"

"Hey, when Michael starts mentioning it on and on, I tend to try and keep my distance," Meredith said. "His interest tend to lie in weird places… Anyway, I think I found something that might be helpful."

"What is it?"

"See, Michael's old computer finally crapped out right around the time he… Uh… Disappeared. He ripped the thing apart and managed to convert the hard drive into what was pretty much a giant USB. I was looking through it for something that might be helpful… And I might have found it… It just might take some translating."

"What do you mean?" Evie asked, skeptical.

"It's his author's notes. I think there are probably hints about what he was planning and how you can fight off those… Whatever they are you're dealing with."

"Really? That's great!" Evie said before she remembered the other caveat. "Wait… You said they have to be translated? How so?"

"Well, while I think there are some helpful bits in here, you kind of have to dig. Let me read you the first few sentences… _'I, Michael Joseph Tharnish Roby, am the greatest writer in the history of fiction! My little fan fics will one day change the world! I am a genius! A genius I say! And you should all be glad you got to witness such greatness in action-_ ', it kind of goes on like this for a few pages…"

Evie groaned as she leaned back into the chair again. "Keep reading I guess. Like I have any other choice."


	3. Chapter 3

_And that's how I made the decision to write the third one. Not only to satisfy the countless people continuing to hero worship me for my incredible ability, but to better examine and understand what makes me so undeniably awesome. Why, I read my own work all the time and am utterly amazed by the brilliance of it. I don't mean to brag, but it's so hard to be humble when you're just as fantastic as I am._

"My God, does your boyfriend make you wear a mask of his face when you have sex?" Evie asked in disgust. "I can't believe I was created by such an insane, self-serving jackass."

"I didn't even know he was this bad," Meredith replied as she bit into another white chocolate Reese's. "He was always full of himself, but this is just absurd… And no on the mask thing, though it's certainly not a straightforward process."

 _So then we get to the part about Chica-_

"It took _how_ many pages to finally dig up some new information?" Evie asked.

"Uhh… Thirteen. We're thirteen pages into this tome." Meredith replied. "And he wonders why I didn't read this crap."

 _I always personally found Chica to be the freakiest one of the bunch. She went down anticlimactically in the first story, and I started trudging weird territory in the second. So I really didn't know how I was going to handle her in the third. I was sure that in my endless wisdom and brilliance, I was going to come up with something fantastic, I just didn't know what._

"I'm going to get back to the cams," Evie said, raising the tablet and pushing the phone up with her shoulder. "Let me know when Narcissus has something more interesting to say, I gotta distract that stupid rabbit again."

"Well, at least it looks like he got done worshipping himself—scratch that. Not even two sentences later he said, 'Not even the finest minds in Hollywood in construct a sense of dramatic irony as fantastic as this was, truly I am fan fiction Jesus.' Wow. Just wow."

"Well there we have our answer," Evie retorted. "Your boyfriend claimed he was a god and ended up getting murdered by a bunch of people who wanted him to shut the hell up."

With a click on yet another camera, Evie double-took in such a way the telephone fell right from her shoulder and landed perfectly on the receiver. Glaring at her from within the arcade cabinet on camera seven was another vile, distorted face. Rendered in white and black, its wide eyes locking with Evie's until she lowered the tablet to shake it off.

Another horrible screech came from the next monstrosity entered the room. Bearing the same milky white eyes as the Balloon Boy, its body thin but crunched in such a way that made a horrible smashing more than apparent. It had not always been so slender: it had been crushed under several hundred pounds of force by an overturned table, and now bore the same vile burns Balloon Boy had.

"YOUR DADDY THOUGHT IT WAS OKAY TO FAT-SHAME ME!" Phantom Chica shrieked.

"I'm sitting right here!" Evie shouted back. "You don't have to yell! None of you have to yell!"

Phantom Chica attempted to slam her hands onto the desk across from Evie, but was reminded, yet again, half of her arms were torn off two sequels ago. "YOU'RE ALL GOING TO PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO OUR ESTABLISHMENT!"

Thanks to the introduction from Balloon Boy, Evie was hardly even impressed. She wasn't totally sure how she was going to beat this one, but was sure an idea would come to her. "Why are you still crushed and flat? I thought that happened in 1987 or something."

"I AM HAUNTING YOU! BASED ON YOUR UNFORGIVING, VILE MEMORIES!"

"Well I wasn't really all that offput before and I'm not feeling all that scared now."

"DEVOUR MY HOT BIRD ASS, EVIE!"

"Oh _good_ ,we've finally sunk low enough to reference much funnier parodies," Evie sighed. She attempted to look at the tablet again to try to figure out the location of whatever that rabbit suited monster from before was, but Phantom Chica kicked the tablet out of her hand.

"STOP IGNORING ME!"

Evie raised an eyebrow as another idea slowly creeped into her mind. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"

"I'M CHICA THE GOD DAMN CHICKEN! I'M ONE OF THE FOUNDING MEMBERS OF THE FAZBEAR CREW!"

"Really now?" Evie asked.

"… WELL… NO. FREDBEAR CAME FIRST… THEN THAT ASSHOLE WHO TURNED INTO SPRINGTRAP… I AM, LIKE, THE THIRD OF THE ORIGINAL CREW!"

"So you predate Freddy and Bonnie?"

"NO… BUT… BUT THEY'RE SPIN OFFS OF THE OTHERS! I WAS AN ORIGINAL!"

Evie's smile was almost mocking now. "So you're newer than Foxy, is what you're saying? Gee, that makes a lot of sense."

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GOING ON ABOUT?"

"Oh, you know. I can just imagine some advertising execs sitting down to a meeting and being like, 'Well now we need to make something cool, like a pirate, to make up for that stupid chicken we made back in the day. What a bad idea that thing was, the kids all think she's a duck!' They'd have gotten rid of you by now but you'd probably have been as expensive to get rid of as you were to build."

"I WILL END YOU!"

"Make it so then, buffalo wing," Evie challenged. "You're nothing. You're shit."

Chica went in for another attack and scream, but dissipated into thin air before she could touch Evie. With a sigh, Evie reached into the desk in front of her, produced a sheet of paper and noted she could check yet another obvious reference off her list.


	4. Chapter 4

"And that's just the thing, you know? My husband doesn't really doesn't get the kind of house I come from."

"Did you at least always get along with your in-laws?"

"Oh yeah. Rodin's family always liked me, we got along great."

"Well at least you've got that going for you… stuff was always… weird between me and Michael's parents."

"How so?"

"I mean, no offence but I've only known you for one night… you ever just feel like you're never good enough for somebody?"

As Evie and Meredith continued to chat and expose the more uncomfortable aspects of the author's home life, there came a heavy breathing coming from side of the room that remained just out of her periphery. A tall, fuzzy, imposing creature with a long snout inching ever closer. Evie had no way of knowing what had caused him to enter, what hallucination had brought him about, but as he raised his one good hand, his intentions became clear.

The room began to fill with the crackle and sizzle and bright colorful sight of a sparkler.

"Hi there, Evie!"

"Oh God, they really said that?" Evie asked. "That's terrible."

"I mean… I didn't hear them say it. They didn't say it to my face." Meredith said. "I just heard it second-hand."

Phantom Sparky frowned as he raised the sparkler up towards Evie, who still paid him no mind. "Evie? Evie? It's me. It's Sparky. Remember?"

"Well still, whatever they said, it sounds hurtful," Evie said. "Did he ever talk to them about that?"

"He's… _really_ uncomfortable around them," Meredith said. "They scare the hell out of him, for some reason or another."

"EVIE! Evie come on!" Sparky shouted. "I was the nice one! We played Go Fish together! You can't forget about me!"

Well Sparky, to be honest, you're occupying a weird space in reality right now.

Sparky looked around in confusion. "Who said that?"

I did.

"Who are you? And where are you?"

I'm the narrator. I'm, you know, occupying a different temporal and universal space from you at the moment.

Sparky scratched his head. "I don't get it."

Well Sparky, let me try to explain. You are currently occupying a fictional reality.

"Isn't that an oxymoron?"

In a sense, but in another sense, no. By the understanding of the reader, your reality is fictional. But from your own perspective, it is real.

"Reader? I'm a character in a book?"

No, you're a character in a fan fiction, actually.

"A fan fiction? What is that?"

A fan fiction, Sparky, is a story written by someone which is set in an already-existent fictional universe.

"I don't think I totally understand."

Think about the drawings kids made of this place back when it was a pizzeria. How they would make up adventures about their favorite Freddy Fazbear characters. Those stories were not made or endorsed by the establishment's owners, but still exist nonetheless.

"So you're a little kid writing about Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria?"

No, the creator of this universe is a twenty-something year old English graduate who writes fan fiction in a struggle to feel relevant while he tries to get these novels he's writing off the ground."

Sparky was scratching his head again. "But… you're not him?"

No, I'm the narrator. The two are often the same figure, but in this case they're not. He wrote the story, I'm telling it, tossing bits of flavor in here and there to keep things from growing stale. Actually, he didn't write this conversation at all, so we're just messing with the plan a little bit.

"This is some heavy stuff right here," Sparky said.

It gets weirder, actually. You're not even an officially recognized Freddy Fazbear character.

"What the hell? You're saying I'm a fictional character _in_ a fictional universe?"

Yeah, pretty much. That's a big part of the reason Evie can't see you. Shit, you were referenced earlier in the story, but I guess the whole "Sparky's not real" thing really bled through. I don't know, buddy, fictional universes get retconned all the time.

"I suddenly find my very existence…wholeheartedly depressing."

Well Sparky, let me tell you something I hope will bring you a little solace—I'm a fictional character too. And so is Evie. In a sense, even Meredith is fictional, considering she's not actually saying any of those things, she's just being represented by a fictional, if accurate, version of herself, and is not in a real conversation with Evie at the moment.

"Is anyone or anything here real then, Mr. Narrator?"

At best, MJTR might be real, or he might just be another fabrication based on something real.

"I don't know that I find any of that comforting at all."

Don't mourn your status as fictional, Sparky. Real people question their existence all the time. But because you are fictional, you don't need to worry about such things. You have a specific purpose, that's why you're being included in the narrative at all. And when that purpose is complete, you will find peace.

"Huh… I never thought about it like that… so what is my purpose?"

It's a little difficult to tell to be honest, Sparky. If nothing else, I think you're here to give the reader something to ponder. Questions about existence and purpose to linger on. Give them a reason to scratch their heads in this otherwise animatronic snuff film… or would this be a snuff fic? However you want to think of it.

"Well hey… Thanks for that narrator. Would you like one of my sparklers?"

I'd love to play around with one Sparky, but as I said, I'm unfortunately in a different plane of reality… but I'll tell you what, I did think of a way you can help out. See that creamy ball of ghastly something or another over there?

Sparky looked over at the spot Phantom Chica had- "I can hear every word you're saying now," Sparky sai- "Do you have to add that I said that? It should be pretty self-explanatory."

It's for the benefit of the reader.

"I'm just saying, it's so weird to have the things I'm doing be explained."

If I don't describe your actions, the audience won't know you're doing them.

"But it's just really off putting to hear—"

Sparky stopped arguing with the narrator and picked up the ball of ghastly something or another.

"No I didn't. Now you're just being rude."

Sparky decided to get argumentative at the last minute in an otherwise pleasant conversation, and punched himself in the face for lacking teamwork.

"Ow! What the hell? You can just make me do that?"

My powers of universal manipulation are beyond your understanding. Now pick up that ball of gaseous whatever it is before I further exercise my control.

"Boy, you sure got aggressive fast."

After picking up the ball, Sparky drop kicked himself.

"HOW DO YOU EVEN DROP KICK YOURSELF?!"

I don't know. It's a wonderful advantage to this being text on a website as opposed to a movie. Now take the Chica spirit ball or whatever the hell that is and shove it into Evie.

Sparky cooperated out of fear that the written word further cause him to break the laws of physics. The instant the ball hit Evie she stopped mid-conversation with Meredith, gasping as she was overcome by another vision.

She could see a tiny room, located perhaps in the back of the pizzeria, the still-obscured purple man standing before a pair of businessmen in suits.

"The plan is proceeding quite well," one of the suits said. "Master Fredrick is pleased with your performance."

"Surely you can continue to replicate your success," the other suit said. "The pact John and I made is in full force. This restaurant turns the most competent of authorities into idiots. We're well protected… we have just one minor issue to deal with."

"I'm listening," the Purple Man said.

"That security guard boy, Vergil, he's getting too smart… the curse surrounding the establishment doesn't seem to work nearly so well on him. But we think we have prepared a solution." With that he extended a device to the Purple Man. "Do you know what this is?"

"A control, of some kind," the Purple Man said.

"That's correct. It controls the internal aspects of those damn machines… The spirits that haunt these grounds can inhabit them all they want, but it doesn't make a difference if the machines can't move. So we're leaving this in your hands."

"Just hang out in the back room here and sick the bastards on Vergil. We'll move him to the night shift where no one will get suspicious, get him stuck in one of the suits and viola, he's off our trail."

"You're pretty sick bastards, Mark and John," the Purple Man said. "Make it look like an accident… got it."

All in a moment Evie returned to the land of the living, staring at the wall and then the phone in confusion. "Hey, Evie, everything okay on your end?" Meredith asked.

"… I think I just flashed back to before I was born," Evie said. "Wonder if this is gonna be a regular thing tonight."

"My boyfriend sure did give you a weird life."

And so the two continued to chat, alone. Sparky had disappeared after the flashback had begun. His purpose had been served.


	5. November Announcement

Hello my dear readers!

I wanted to take the opportunity to announce a big moment concerning my fan fiction writing coming up here very soon. At the moment, I have a bit of a backlog of smaller projects I started but never got around to finishing that have sort of been swallowed up by stuff like my sequel to _Angel of the Bat_ , my attempt at writing Xenoblade etc. I have felt bad about this for a while and understand that I may very well have caused interest to wane on these side projects, but I am determined to not let these pieces go unfinished.

So, knowing how many writers dedicate November to knocking out a novel, I think the least I can do is knock out a few of these pieces that were intended to be finished quickly in the first place. So look forward to new material and the conclusion of these pieces this November!


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